


The Surface of a Secret

by alxxiis



Series: Better By Your Firelight [3]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27781615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alxxiis/pseuds/alxxiis
Summary: Serilda attempts to hide an injury from her companions, but Halsin seems to have an uncanny way of finding her when she doesn’t want to be found.
Relationships: Halsin (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Better By Your Firelight [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018318
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	The Surface of a Secret

The chill of the dirt soothed the throbbing burn that filled the palms and pads of her fingers; using her magic to cool the blisters seemed like the rational thing to do, but she’d tried that before, and it somehow only served to make them worse. She was thankful her tent was kept away from the others as she no doubt looked odd with her hands shoved into the ground. The rest of the party was gathered around the fire, sharing soup that Gale had cooked; Serilda’s helping sat on the ground next to her, unable to hold the bowl long enough to enjoy it without wearing it.

Aurella’s laughter carried through the camp, and while Serilda felt like an outcast with her self-imposed isolation, letting them see her as uncontrolled was not an option. For whatever reason, she’d been thrust into the impromptu leadership role, and they needed to believe she was strong enough to carry that responsibility. Then again, was it really her responsibility? Why couldn’t one of them make the decisions? She wouldn’t trust Astarion or Aurella, but Wyll? Well, Wyll seemed to jump in heart first rather than take a moment to think; great for the folk hero he aspired to be, but a little dangerous as a leader. 

She pulled her hands out of the earth and brushed the dirt off before reaching for the burn salve she bought from the druid grove. It smelled of mint and lavender to mask the harsh scent of aloe; she scooped a dollop on her finger and began rubbing it into her hands as she resumed her line of thought.

Lae’zel wouldn’t have enough of the party’s trust to follow her, and her sole focus would be reaching her people, and the rest of them would be left to wonder whether she told the truth. Shadowheart… actually, Serilda didn’t know how Shadowheart would lead. Her reactions seemed to waver, but it seemed, more than anything, she sought self-preservation, even if at the detriment of others. Gale, though, he could be someone she’d follow. He often agreed with her choices, helping others when possible. Then again, if his past was anything to go by, he could very well land them trapped in a bottle of wine suspended somewhere in the Astral Plane.

“Serilda?” Halsin’s voice startled her. “Is everything all right?”

Her head shot upward, and she quickly hid her hands in her lap. “I’m fine,” she said, giving a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I just… had a headache.”

His eyebrows arched upward and he frowned. “Are you sure?” he asked. “If you’d like, I brought with me some teas from the Grove that may help.” His eyes fell to her lap. 

Tucking her hands further into the layers of her robe, she put more effort into her smile as she replied. “I appreciate the offer, Halsin, but I think Gale’s soup will be enough to help me sleep it off.”

He hummed and smiled knowingly. “You mean the soup you’ve yet to touch?”

She blushed and looked down at the bowl. “I… was just about to dig in.” 

“I would recommend reheating it,” he said. “The flavor waned once the steam cleared.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

He crossed his hefty arms and simply looked at her. 

With a sigh, and an attempt at relieving the growing tension, she joked, “It’s a bit of a strain on the neck having to look up at you. Did you need anything else?”

Halsin’s comprehending smile remained. “I did mention the habits of leading the Grove were slow to leave. Are you sure everything is all right?”

Again, she sighed and dropped her head. “I’m guessing no amount of ‘yes’s would convince you.” Serilda looked back up at his tender face and couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed at his persistence.

The large elf fell into a squat in front of her, giving her neck a chance to relax. “I suppose I’m rather stubborn. Is this perhaps one of your ‘far more interesting’ secrets you mentioned some time ago?”

“Perhaps,” she replied, her eyes falling to her hands, wishing she could mimic the sharp tone Aurella often used, but Halsin’s concern made that impossible.

“If you are adamant that you wish to keep this secret,” he began, “I won’t trouble you any further.”

She looked up to find blue and gold watching her, and her shoulders slumped under the weight of his disquieted but encouraging gaze. It filled her with the urge to share everything; her and Aurella’s childhood traumas, the loneliness felt among her mentor’s colleagues, the sexual nature of the illithid dreams, even secrets that weren’t hers to divulge, like why Aurella was who she was, why it was dangerous for her sister to return to Baldur’s Gate (even if she shrugged off the concern). 

Blinking away the feeling, she shook her head and smiled. “I can see part of why you made such a great master,” she said, earning a raise of his brow. “You have a way of making people want to say or do something they would otherwise refuse.”

Halsin chuckled softly as he dropped into a more comfortable position, his knees digging into the already disturbed dirt. He reached his hands out toward her, palms up.

“May I?” He nodded his head down at her lap.

Hesitating a moment, she conceded and slipped her hands into his expectant ones. His skin was warm, rough, worn with years upon years of guiding and working in the wilderness he was so fond of; the calloused hands dwarfed hers to the point it was almost laughable. 

As he examined her hands, turning them over and gauging the severity of the burns, she couldn’t help but watch him. The way his brow furrowed and his eyelashes dipped just above his cheeks, how his mouth shifted into a thin line and deepened the shadows of his laugh lines. 

He looked up, and she prayed it was dark enough to hide the color filling her cheeks having been caught staring. Though his face appeared more concerned than confused or accusatory.

“How have you managed to gather so many scars?” he asked, his tone lighthearted on the surface.

Her gaze moved to her hands still in his; his thumbs brushed over the faint maroon patches of skin marring her fingertips and palms, careful to avoid the fresh wounds.

“I enjoyed playing with fire when I was younger,” she replied, forcing a chuckle, though it was a half-hearted attempt. 

She glanced back up at him, and the tilt of his head told her he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t push. 

“I can heal these if you’d like,” he offered, his thumb hovering over one of her blisters. 

“I wouldn’t want you to waste magic on something so small,” she said, eyes returning to her hands and where his skin touched hers. 

“It’s hardly a waste,” he replied with a light chuckle. His right hand released hers, and he tucked a curled finger under her chin, gently pushing upward so she would look at him. “I would only offer if I sought to help you.”

Warmth pooled in her cheeks, and she blinked at him, his finger still pressed against her skin, the heat radiating from his hand only serving to worsen her blush.

“Okay,” she muttered, lips barely moving.

He smiled and pulled his hand away, taking with it his warmth and leaving behind an echo of his touch. He hovered over the burns on her left hand for a moment before a bright blue light filled the space between them; a cooling sensation passed over her skin and seeped through each wound, repairing the damaged dermis from underneath. He repeated the action with her right hand, the same feeling filling her injuries and healing them.

The light faded, and he gave her hands another once over.

“How do they feel?”

She flexed them as they remained in his own loose grip. “Better than what any salve would’ve done,” she said, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

Halsin returned her smile and released her hands. “It’s no trouble. In fact, I much prefer serving as a healer than I did as Master of the Grove.” He added, “That’s not to say I want you to actively seek injury just to keep me occupied.”

A weak laugh passed through her lips, and she watched as he returned to his feet, forcing her to crane her neck upward again.

“I will leave you to rest,” he said, giving her a brief nod. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” she replied. “And thank you, again.”

He smiled. “Of course, Serilda.”


End file.
